


To Fall Asleep With You

by Akiko_Natsuko



Series: Reaper76 [23]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Blood and Injury, Character Death, Death, Grief/Mourning, Loss, Love, M/M, Memories, Past Relationship(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-21
Updated: 2018-10-21
Packaged: 2019-08-05 06:26:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16362614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akiko_Natsuko/pseuds/Akiko_Natsuko
Summary: It was like falling asleep after a long day of work. Back then there had been no need for words, and now there were no words, and his lips trembled as he tilted his head just enough to press a kiss into snowy hair as he let himself fall.When one old soldier falls, another follows.





	To Fall Asleep With You

It’s quiet.

   Quieter than it has been in a long time, the anger, the ever-present urge to keep moving, to keep searching for answers had ebbed away with each faltering breath that the Soldier had taken, until his chest had stilled, leaving Reaper numb and empty. There had never been any thought about leaving Jack behind, and the still form had fit comfortably into his arms, a missing piece that he hadn’t allowed himself to acknowledge until now. His form threatens to collapse there and then, a sundering beginning somewhere deep in his chest as he ducks his head, pressing his lips against a bloodied temple, throat constricting when there is no reaction. Jack had always turned towards him, conscious or unconscious, seeking the comfort and love, even in the rare snatched moments where violence had switched to an aching need. But not this time.

    There was a commotion behind him, and he doesn’t know whether it’s his people or Jack’s and he doesn’t care, arms tightening possessively, protectively around the still figure.

    It’s the thought of a moment to flee, body melting away into the shadows, taking Jack with him as he should have done so long ago before all this…before it was too late. The constriction in his throat is building, rising into a howl as they reform miles away in one of his many boltholes, one of the many escapes he had created, in some vague, distant hope that one day they could find a path back to one another. Only in those dreams, Jack had been warm and vivid in his arms, not still, not quiet, all limp limbs and still chest and the howl bursts out now as he curls around the other man.

    The bed in the corner has never been used, and a layer of dust has settled since he last visited. Fitting, he thinks in a bitter, detached manner as he moves across to it, distantly aware of the smoke rising around him, parts of him slipping away with each step he takes. He’s gentle in the way he should have been when Jack was… he cuts that thought off, still not ready to give it a name, as he settles Jack on the bed, arranging his limbs and refusing to let his gaze focus on the wounds. It’s harder to escape the expression on Jack’s bloodied face, his mask shattered and left behind, and he faltered, unable to tear his gaze away.

Peaceful.

    It’s an expression that he hadn’t seen on Jack’s face since the early days of Overwatch when they’d survived the Crisis and the future had glistened with promise and hope. An expression that he’d longed to bring back to his partner’s face had fought and struggled and failed to bring back, and right now he wished he’d never seen it again. He would take the snarling features of Soldier 76, the twisted, broken features of Jack Morrison as Overwatch and their relationship grumbled around him, over this peaceful stillness, because that would mean that Jack was alive. That he was still with him, and there it was, the thought he hadn’t wanted to give a name to, and it’s not a howl this time, but a soft, broken noise that he hadn’t thought himself capable of.

“You weren’t meant to go without me.” It isn’t until the words slip out, the raspy whisper loud in the silence that he realises the truth of those words. There had always been some part of him that had refused to believe that he had existed without Jack, even when all the evidence had pointed to the other man perishing at Zurich, and it had been grounding to realise exactly who Soldier 76 was. That was gone, and his form quivered and quaked as he reached out, resting clawed fingers against Jack’s cheek. “Not again.”

_Not this time._

     His movements were jerky as he stripped off his coat and armour, trying not to think about how much of the blood marring the leather was Jack’s. He folded them carefully, settling them at the end of the bed, sparing a passing thought for the bone mask that Jack had shattered during the battle, before shaking his head. Masks meant nothing now. Down to his under armour he climbed onto the bed, taking the side closest to the entrance, just as he always had in the days when they’d shared quarters, curling himself around Jack. It felt like coming home, as he tenderly moved Jack until he was cradled against him, white hair tickling his chin as they settled, that cursed tuft that he’d teased his partner about relentlessly in the past, resting in the curve of his throat. It was a position that had haunted him more nights than he could count, and he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, as blocked out the stillness, the dingy room that was a far cry from their spacious quarters in Zurich and lost himself in the sensation of holding Jack once more.

     It was like falling asleep after a long day of work. Back then there had been no need for words, and now there were no words, and his lips trembled as he tilted his head just enough to press a kiss into snowy hair as he let himself fall. The sundering that had felt so distant and terrifying before rushed up to greet him now, but it was gentle as it engulfed him. He breathed, drinking in the lingering scent of pulse munitions, the iron tang of blood and the smell that always been uniquely Jack, and let himself flow into it.

One breath.

     His nanites were humming under his skin, a heartbeat that wasn’t his own. There had been a time when he had hated the sensation, cursing this unnatural life, but now it felt like a lullaby in the silence that was wrapping around them like a blanket.

Another breath.

    The rhythm was slowing now, fading and for a moment he was back beneath the rubble, fighting that same ebbing of life, desperately clinging to existence because he knew that Jack was somewhere nearby. Without that to anchor him there was no reason to fight, and he sighed, feeling parts of his body drifting into the ether.

A final breath.

_Jack, this time we go together._

 


End file.
